


dead men walking home

by driedupwishes



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunken Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3770656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driedupwishes/pseuds/driedupwishes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Last time we lost him while drunk he turned up four cities away three days later,” Jean told the cop. “Mikasa promised if we ever lost him like that again we’d never make it to see the next sunrise.”</p>
<p>“That’s… That’s not something you should probably tell me,” the cop said, awkwardly. </p>
<p>“Eh,” Jean shrugged. “At least this way someone will look into our disappearances and get us justice, right?”</p>
<p>“There won’t be any evidence,” Eren reminded Jean quietly, solemnly. “It’s Mikasa, man, she’s not going to leave anything behind to incriminate herself.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Jean said. “Right.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	dead men walking home

“Oh my god,” Eren muttered, slinking as far down against the wall as he could. “Mikasa’s going to kill me.”

“Kill _you_ ,” Jean hissed back. He was already almost sitting on the ground, as far down on the wall as he was. “She’s going to rip my spine out and _beat me with it_.”

The cop across the walkway looked faintly startled, because they didn’t sound like they were joking. But honestly, it wasn’t their fault! It was just-

Armin was short, okay. Short people were easy to lose. This shit happened _all the time_.

(Mikasa was still going to kill them, though. She was going to make them both wish they were _dead_. Eren was never going to get to kiss his dumb tiny boyfriend, Levi, again. He could have wept at the thought.)

“Listen,” the cop said, going for soothing and missing by a mile. He just sounded anxious, which made Eren twitch even more. “Your friend is probably fine, don’t worry about it. He can’t have gotten too far, right?”

Eren almost pitied the man. Almost, but not quite. All his pity was reserved for Jean and himself at the moment, since it would be their last night on Earth.

“Last time we lost him while drunk he turned up four cities away three days later,” Jean told the man. His voice was empty, like his soul. Eren could sympathize. The cop’s jaw dropped, just a little bit. “Mikasa promised if we ever lost him like that again we’d never make it to see the next sunrise.”

“That’s… That’s not something you should probably tell me,” the cop said, awkward. He was obviously new, sent out to answer the frantic 911 call Eren had phoned in once he realized Armin was _gone_. Eren looked at him blankly, his will running through his head.

“Eh,” Jean shrugged, apparently past caring to the point where his voice had started to tilt a little manically. “At least this way someone will look into our disappearances and get us justice, right?”

“There won’t be any evidence,” Eren reminded Jean quietly, solemnly. It was almost funny how the cop jolted, turning white as a sheet when he glanced at Eren’s serious face. “It’s Mikasa, man, she’s not going to leave anything behind to incriminate herself.”

“Oh,” Jean said. “Right.”

“Well,” Eren said, after the silence had started to stretch, the cop glancing between them like he wasn’t sure what to do with them now that they were convinced they were on Death’s door. “I guess the least we could do is re-check the streets around the bar and see if we can’t find him in some alley somewhere, right?”

Jean gave him a look that bespoke the futility of that task, which Eren didn’t blame him for. For a motherfucker who couldn’t drive, Armin managed to get from city to city while shitfaced drunk ridiculously easily. They still had no idea to this day how he’d wound up almost all the way to the coast, but Eren was sure he still had the scar from the way Mikasa had pushed him off the couch and onto the coffee table.

The cop opened his mouth, maybe to offer his help, maybe to ask them if they were on some serious drugs (Eren wished, at this point, at least then he’d go out with a bang) when his radio fuzzed a buzzing noise at his hip. He answered it reflexively, still staring open mouthed at them, but after a few seconds of chatter Eren couldn’t make out he seemed to come back to his senses, brows furrowing as he responded, low and serious and suddenly much more competent than before.

“Look,” he said a second later, glancing between Jean’s slumped form and Eren’s blank stare. “I have to go, there’s a reported robbery and I, uh-“

“You do you, man,” Jean said, which was a ridiculous thing to say to a cop, but Eren didn’t have the forethought to enjoy what might be his last chance at laughter. “We’ll face our mistake come morning.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Eren said solemnly. The cop gave them a bewildered look before hurrying to his car, climbing in, and driving off, sirens blaring only a few feet down the road. Jean and Eren winced together, shoulders hunching up toward their ears before dropping back down to their slump.

“So,” Eren said after a long moment of listening to the shitty street light buzz overhead. “Want to put off the inevitable by wandering the streets until we absolutely can’t stay awake anymore?”

Jean sighed, the sound long and drawn out. “Sure,” he said, shrugging. “Might as well.”

They wandered the streets until about noon, starting in an outward spiral from the bar they had been at until they were almost completely lost at the far end of the city. They didn’t see Armin once and Jean lamented the things he’d never gotten to do with (and to) his boyfriend so much that Eren was almost looking forward to their demise at the hands of one very angry and over protective Mikasa, because at least it meant that he wouldn’t be forced to have the image of Jean and Armin having sex imprinted on his brain any further. Eventually they admitted defeat and made their slow, shuffling way back to their apartment, climbing the stairs with a mix of dread and nostalgia that made their tired legs almost appreciate the effort. There was a short non-verbal argument about who would open the door, which Jean lost because in the end it turned out Eren had forgotten his key inside on the side table by the door.

Jean sighed, pausing just before he turned the knob. They shared a glance, silently communicating that yeah, it had been fun, even though they’d fought a lot and Eren had tired to shove Jean over the side of the boat the one time they’d been in the ocean, but it had been a good life. A good life that they would very much miss sort of sharing.

“Just do it,” Eren whispered, closing his yees. “I’m at peace.”

“Yeah,” Jean muttered back, turning his wrist. “Me too.”

They squeezed through the door together, the move practiced from so much roughhousing and wrestling to be the first one inside, braced for the shouting, the yelling, the almost feral growling as Mikasa realized the small blonde wasn’t with them, but it never came.

Instead what met them was the sight of Mikasa pacing the living room, Armin sitting bleary eyed on the couch, and Levi hunched over the kitchen counter, hair sticking up with stress.

“Armin,” Jean yelped, relief flooding his face as he realized his boyfriend wasn’t lost at all, safe and sound in their apartment. Armin winced at the loud noise before blinking, bemused, as Jean rushed to fling himself across his lap. 

Eren watched with a whole new feeling of dread as Mikasa intercepted the movement, hauling Jean out of midair by his collar until they were nose to nose. She didn’t look like she was straining at all to keep Jean upright, even though his legs were like limb noodles against the ground. 

“ _Where_ have you _been_ ,” Mikasa growled in Jean’s face.

Eren looked from Jean’s widening eyes to Armin’s slowly forming scowl to Levi’s glare (directed at him, _rude_ ) before slowly reaching in his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out, glancing down at it and clicking the button on the side to bring the screen to life. 

Nothing happened.

“Oh shit,” Eren said. Mikasa turned on him. Jean mouthed ' _run_ '. His legs protested the idea as Levi moved from behind the kitchen counter, eyes dark and lips pressed into a thin, pale line. 

“Oh shit is _right_ ,” Mikasa snarled. Eren knew it was futile, but he whirled to bolt anyway, heart hammering with the same kind of adrenaline he’d felt back when Armin had first gone missing.

In the end Levi caught him before he even made it to the stairs and he and Jean shared a four hour long lecture that crossed over into so many topics Eren coudln’t even follow it all. They weren’t killed (only because of their boyfriends’ interference) but Mikasa did take their heads and knock them together, shouting about how she’d that she really wished they’d use the two brain cells between them to _think_ for once.

“Next time, we’re skipping town,” Eren muttered afterward, when they were leant together to share an ice pack for their new matching head injuries.

“Dibs on the name Chester,” Jean mumbled back. Eren snorted.

“Only if I get to be Norman,” Eren bargained. Jean hummed quietly and held out his fist for a knuckle touch. Eren complied, laughing quietly as he did.

Armin snorted from the kitchen, glancing over at a horrified looking Levi. “You know, if you’re going to run away maybe you shouldn’t let the people you’re hiding from overhear your conversation about fake names…”

They pretended they couldn’t hear him in the most mature manner possible as they nursed their wounds in peace. Levi mouthed _Norman?_ with disgust for the next ten minutes in between quietly asking himself why he was dating Eren in the first place. Armin could sympathize, he really could.

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot for the life of me write the next chapter to my other story, so instead I've been doing little scribble shit each night. here's last night's. had a lot of fun with it, ngl.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
